Death comes to me in dreams:
The dead float like dandelions:
Shimmery and wistful it all seems,
While sleep binds me in irons.
The dark haunts me with forgotten smiles;
It whispers the future in my ear;
And all the past vainly beguiles,
For within it, there isn’t a single tear.
New dreams are dreadful and bright!
I can remember not even one!
In vain, I try to make love to night,
Under the eye of an unforgiving sun.
I am not the sun
Nor am I the moon
Perhaps
I can just be a lighthouse
On some storm tossed shore
Guiding a seeking ship
Into safe haven.
You tell me I can trust you
but save your breath,
because the two things I can trust now
are belief in myself and death.
The days fly by,
Like seasons do;
I’m forgotten;
But alive, too.
Few days are good;
Most still are bad;
Some hours bring smiles;
Most keep me sad.
As the days go,
I let them, one
By one, and blur
The moon and the sun.
I put on smiles,
As night takes day;
And like the night,
They do not stay.
So I live them,
Like pills and sleep,
Like dreams I dream;
But cannot keep.
Hearts Still Care 
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